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When workmen strive to do better than well, they do confound their skill in covetousness.
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Excellence
Strive
Skills
Better
Wells
Confound
Well
Covetousness
Workmen
Skill
More quotes by William Shakespeare
Two women placed together makes cold weather.
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Let me confess that we two must be twain, although our undivided loves are one.
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All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, with sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.
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This world to me is like a lasting storm,Whirring me from my friends.
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My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.
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O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. . . . She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomi Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep.
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How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
William Shakespeare
I love a ballad but even too well if it be doleful matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung lamentably.
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In love the heavens themselves do guide the state Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.
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My wits begin to turn.
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I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so.
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My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief.
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There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
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There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.
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When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air the earth sings when he touches it the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.
William Shakespeare
Heaven is above all yet there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
William Shakespeare
She says I am not fair, that I lack manners She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, Were man as rare as Phoenix.
William Shakespeare
The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.
William Shakespeare
Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters.
William Shakespeare
But thy eternal summer shall not fade.
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